


We Will Never Know

by Love (crazylove)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Family Member Death, M/M, sadfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylove/pseuds/Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WARNING: Deals with Death - Don't read if that's too sad!</p><p>Jackson vows to be there for Mark as the group travels back to LA for Mark's Dad's funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Will Never Know

**Author's Note:**

> Dear UNIVERSE, don't get any ideas. This is just a story. I do not want this to happen in real life. EVER!

Jackson wasn’t quite asleep but he knew Mark was when he heard their bedroom door open slowly, a sliver of golden light from the hallway creeping across to the floor to the base of the small lamp there and then just stopping as if it were scared to go further. He opened his eyes fully and saw Jinyoung hyung’s face staring right back at him. Jackson sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the bottom of Mark’s bunk. It rattled the bed frame. Mark didn’t move. Their manager was right there. No one said anything. 

That’s when Jackson knew for sure that something was terribly wrong.

“Mark,” Manager-hyung said, unusually quiet. And then he cleared his throat and tried again, in a clearer, more manager-like voice. “Mark?”

Jackson rubbed his head as Mark’s bed creaked above him. It didn’t hurt. That was the last thing on his mind. He could feel Mark’s confusion even though he couldn’t see his roommate’s sleepy eyes. Mark jumped clumsily from the top bunk, hitting the ground with an ungraceful thud. He didn’t say anything, just followed Manager hyung and Jinyoung hyung into the hallway. Jackson watched the cuff of Mark’s blue pajama pants disappear and listened to their footsteps down the hall. Manager hyung’s door shut.

Jackson’s heart was pounding.

He didn’t dare turn on the light. Mark would be back soon and then he’d close the door so he could sleep. Truthfully, Jackson didn’t really like the dark. It’s not that he was scared, really. It was more like he liked to see things coming. He didn’t want to be caught off-guard. There was always something lurking, something ready to fight.

The door opened again. This time Manager hyung was all by himself.

“Come with me, Jackson,” he said, in the saddest voice Jackson had ever heard.

It was three in the morning. 3:23. Jackson stared at the clock in the living room, watching and watching. The number never changed. It stayed stubbornly the same. 3:23. It was still 3:23 when JB and Youngjae joined him on the couch, JB in a robe and Youngjae with messy hair and oversized t-shirt, shorts and slippers. 3:23 when BamBam and Yugyeom settled on the floor in front of them, BamBam right at his feet, only wearing his boxers and Yugyeom was wearing a pajama set that Jackson knew his mom gave him. 3:23 when Junior came and settled right next to Jackson with a curious and concerned expression, the quick sweep of his eyes told Jackson that Junior knew exactly who was missing.

It was still 3:23.

Then 3:24 when a loud wail pierced the tense silence and Jackson’s heart leapt into his throat.

Manager hyung swallowed hard. They had never been so quiet before.

And Mark had never been that loud.

“Mark’s dad,” Manager hyung told them. “Died. In a car accident. About an hour ago in LA.”

Nobody said anything at first but then Youngjae burst into tears. The rest of them were staring. Jackson couldn’t hear anything, just Mark’s sobs from the end of the hallway, from that locked room where he was with Jinyoung hyung, so far away.

“I’m so sorry to tell you this,” Manager hyung said. He looked like the sorriest person on earth.

“He died?” Yugyeom said, finally breaking the silence, save for Youngjae’s muffled crying, now wrapped up in JB’s arms. Jackson looked over at his other best friend. JB’s face was tense yet expressionless as he rested his chin against Youngjae’s hair.

“I’m so sorry,” Manager hyung said again. “There was nothing they could do.”

Yugyeom stood up then, this tall lunk of a kid and threw himself into Junior’s arms as he started to cry. Jackson knew the protocol now. Every hyung take a dongsaeng. So he slid off the couch to sit next to BamBam who looked as shell-shocked about it all as he felt. BamBam shook his head slowly when Jackson put his arms around his skinny waist.

“Where’s Mark hyung?” BamBam whispered, leaning into Jackson. The lump in Jackson’s throat was beating. It was pulsating and shaking, threatening to explode. But it couldn’t. Not yet. So he just swallowed hard and pushed it aside, focused on stroking BamBam’s hair.

Where was Mark? Still locked away and Jackson didn’t know what to do. Junior was crying now too, silent tears running down his face while Yugyeom was curled up like a baby in his lap. JB only looked pale. Even Manager hyung hid his face. Jackson listened for Mark.

As if on cue he heard Mark calling, “Jackson! J-ack-ack-son!” An awful, sob-filled cry where his whole voice was choked with violent tears as if they were clawing their way out of his body. Jackson had never heard anything like it from anyone in his whole life and he never thought he’d heard it from Mark. He pushed back quickly, feeling guilty almost immediately but his heart was racing and Mark was crying for him. He had to go.

JB noticed right away, unfolding an arm from around Youngjae and tugging on BamBam’s sleeve. He nodded at Jackson, just once, but it told Jackson that he would take care of things here.

Jackson was gone.

He raced through the hall and burst through Manager hyung’s bedroom door. Mark was in a heap on the floor. It couldn’t be called crying. His whole body was racked with sobs, shuddering so hard it looked painful. Jinyoung hyung’s face was red. Jackson dropped to his knees immediately and put his arms around Mark, pulling him into his chest the best he could as Mark wouldn’t move from his curled up position on the floor.

“I’m here,” he whispered into Mark’s hair, holding him. Mark was crying so hard that Jackson wasn’t even sure he knew that he was there. He looked up at their all-time leader, JYP, once again, and he looked as sad and sorry and scared as Jackson felt.

Jackson was going to have to pull through this for Mark. He would have to do it all by himself.

He didn’t notice the video call for a couple moments. All he could hear was Mark and then eventually something else wormed its way to his brain and he could see the iPad propped up on the desk. Mark’s mom and his sister were there and they were crying, holding onto each other.

Jackson grit his teeth. His thin shirt was becoming soaked by Mark’s tears and his snot and his drool, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if an ocean formed from Mark’s tears and he was about to drown. He would stay right there and hold him for as long as he needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’ve got him.” Jackson said to Mark’s mom and sister over Face Time, to JYP. He reached out, slung an arm around the back of Mark’s thighs to pull him over so his lanky frame was practically wrapped around his body as he knelt on the floor, bare knees digging into the cold, hard wood, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He was not moving.

“I’ve got him,” Jackson said again, firmly. “I’ll take care of Mark.”

He pressed his hand against the back of Mark’s head protectively and took a deep breath. It felt like he was preparing for another fight. This would be the hardest one of his life. But he had to be strong.

Because his whole reason for living for right there in his arms.  
\--

Jackson didn’t mean to fall for his best friend. It was so cliché and Jackson was the type of guy that did the unexpected. The rough-and-tumble little boy who did gymnastics! The champion competitive fencer who left it all to be in a boyband! The Chinese funny guy who starred on Korean entertainment! Jackson had never been born to do the norm. He was out there. He pushed himself.

But in love, he was fairly ordinary.

He fell for Mark because how could he not? Mark who’s smile could light up his whole week. Mark who always listened even if he didn’t talk. Mark who never got (too) annoyed with him. Mark who’s presence could always calm him down or cheer him up. Mark who worked harder than anyone else. Mark who all the little things made him happy. Mark who was like a puzzle that Jackson was constantly figuring out. He’d always loved a challenge.

So he loved Mark.

But it wasn’t easy, keeping this secret. They joked around about it all the time but to Jackson it was real. When he hugged him or touched him or even dared to kiss him and Mark would scrunch up his face in the most adorable way.

Would he do that for real?

Jackson had never dared to find out.

He’d rather go to the jungle and fight off tigers and rattlesnakes. He’d rather flip out of an airplane for a music video without a parachute. He’d rather gulp down the spiciest Sriracha known on planet earth than risk ruining his friendship, ruining _everything_ , just because he was silly enough to try to get with Mark. So he kept it inside. It wasn’t fun sometimes. It wasn’t easy. But it was enough. Being around Mark was enough. It was what he needed.  
He needed his best friend around forever.

Death was something he hadn’t planned for. But it wasn’t something Jackson had never thought of. Sometimes it would scare him late at night, especially with all the lights off, Mark sleeping soundly above him. His mom. What would he do? Jackson could only imagine himself feeling lost, no longer a part of this earth, nothing to live for, not even a sense of who he was anymore. He thought that might even be worse than death. The living dead.

He wondered if Mark was feeling that way now.

The sun was rising, slowly, inch by inch. 6:47. Gentle morning rays started to fill the room. JYP brought them blankets and pillows, and then he eventually left. The video call ended. It was just Jackson and Mark on Manager hyung’s floor. Mark wasn’t crying anymore. He just stopped all of a sudden like all the tears had dried up. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping. He was breathing in erratic, shallow breaths and his whole body was shivering, even though Jackson had heaped all three blankets on top of him as his own arms were covered in goosebumps. He made sure the pillow was under Mark’s head. Mark’s body was draped over his lap and he just stroked Mark’s hair, down to his neck and started over again, his hand never stopping.  
Jackson didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to say all the nonsense phrases like, it’s okay and you’ll be fine. How could Mark be fine right now? Jackson didn’t bullshit like that. When Mark he knew when to tease, when to distract and when to back off. Mark didn’t need words right now. Truthfully, Jackson didn’t know what Mark needed but he was determined to figure it out.

The door creaked open slowly. JB poked his head in. His eyes were red, more from no sleep than crying, Jackson supposed. He glanced down at Mark and then into Jackson’s eyes as if asking for permission.

Jackson nodded.

JB opened the door only enough to step in and then closed it behind him with his foot. He was carrying two mugs and when he settled down beside Jackson, he could smell the warm green tea. JB offered one to Jackson. He took it with his free hand. The honey and tea smell danced right underneath his nose. He took a tentative sip.

JB gestured to Mark and Jackson’s shook his head.

“You look cold,” JB said, very quietly. He got up again, leaving quietly with the other tea cup. A couple minutes later he came back with a large hoodie and knelt behind Jackson. Jackson only paused stroking Mark’s hair to slip his arms into it quickly and then he resumed stroking Mark again as he sipped his tea.

“Thanks,” Jackson whispered. JB sat next to him again, heavily. “How is everyone?”

JB gave an uncharacteristic shrug. “They are all sleeping together on the floor in the living room.”

“Good,” Jackson said, nodding to himself. “That’s good.”

JB nodded slowly. “I can’t sleep,” he said.

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a little while. Jackson could feel JB’s eyes on Mark, his pale, pale face, his furrowed brow, eyes shut like he was in pain, shivering under a pile of blankets. Jackson knew it had to be hard.

“How is he?” JB finally whispered.

“Not good,” Jackson said.

JB shook his head slowly. When he spoke, Jackson heard the catch in his voice. He reached over and patted his leader’s knee.

“I don’t know what to do,” JB said. “I… how could this happen--?”

He looked at Jackson and then Jackson knew he had been wrong before. JB’s eyes were red from crying, not just a lack of sleep. They filled with tears now, spilled over his cheeks. Jackson kept a firm grip on JB’s knee, gave it a squeeze.

“You don’t have to know what to do,” he said. “Just be there for them. They need you. Just take care of them like you always do, JB. You’re good at that.”

JB nodded tersely, tears still trickling down. “And Mark?” he said, looking down at their hyung, still unmoving. “What do I do about him?”

“Don’t worry,” Jackson said. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll make sure--” he said, not sure if he could say it. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. “I’ll… do everything I can.”

JB nodded again, swallowing so hard that Jackson could see his Adam’s apple jump. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips softly against Mark’s cheek. “I love you, Mark,” JB whispered, in English.

Jackson wished it could be that easy.  
\--

Japanese promotions were canceled, no, postponed for one week. Manager hyung informed them that they all had tickets on a red eye flight to LA that night. It seemed like night would never come. It was barely morning and Jackson’s legs were cramped. He tried to wiggle his toes underneath Mark’s frame but he couldn’t feel them. He shifted very slightly. He didn’t want to move but he needed circulation. Jackson shifted the other way. All of a sudden, Mark sat up, the blankets sliding off him. He looked at Jackson with wild eyes like he didn’t know where he was or who Jackson was.

“Mark?” Jackson said, hesitantly. He reached out and pressed a hand against the side of Mark’s face to try to bring him back to reality. His skin was clammy and cold.

“Is it real?” Mark whispered. “Is this real or just a dream?”

Jackson stared at his best friend. Mark’s eyes were red and swollen, his skin so pale that all the blue veins in his forehead seemed to glow. His nose was a mottled red. His cheek had an impression from the pillow molded into it. His tinted pink hair stood on edge.

“Ma-keu…” Jackson said, slowly. He didn’t want to say this, but he had to. He had to be honest. He kept his hand cupping the side of Mark’s face and stroked his thumb across his soft cheek, staring into Mark’s confused eyes. “Mark… I’m sorry but… it’s true. It’s real.”

“Ohhhh…” Mark moaned. The sound was pure pain, like his heart was exploding in his chest. Jackson felt his heart breaking too, all over again.

“I know, baby,” Jackson whispered before he could stop himself. Mark collapsed on the floor again, bursting into a fresh round of tears. Jackson bit his lip hard. He could not cry, he would not cry. He could taste blood. He rubbed Mark’s back.

“I don’t WANT THIS!” Mark screamed, like a toddler having a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket and then he was crying again and mumbling, “I want to go home. I want to go home.” Jackson looked up at the ceiling. He asked for anyone, anything, to give him strength and then he draped himself over Mark’s body, acting like the blanket now as he slid his arms under Mark to hold him tight, feeling Mark’s body racked and shaking with sobs.

“I don’t want this, I don’t want this,” Mark chanted and sobbed, a mantra underneath him. Jackson had never heard him talking like this. Words slurring together through his tears, phlegmy and wet. Over and over, he wouldn’t stop. “I don’t want this, I want to go home, I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I want to go home—“

“S-soon, Mark,” Jackson said, his voice breaking a bit. But he wouldn’t give in. This was his one job, maybe this was even the reason he was put into this group and he wasn’t going to screw it up. So he kept speaking in a soothing voice right next to Mark’s ear. “Soon. You’re going home soon.”  
9:43 in the morning. It still seemed like night was never going to come.  
\--

Jackson watched the commercials on TV sometimes. They warned against them. Drugs. Sometimes Jackson thought they all relied on them too casually. A stomach ache here, a back ache there, here’s a pill. If you’re feeling too tired, too hungry, here. A cold? A pill. A headache? No nap, no water, here’s just a pill.

They said they had to get Mark on the plane. They said he needed rest. They said it was for his own good. They wrenched him out of Jackson’s arms despite how Jackson was yelling and gave him the pills.

Then they told Jackson to leave.

Management didn’t know what they were doing. No one did.

Jackson had one suitcase. He looked through Mark’s closet and then his own. He folded up the clothes very carefully. He unfolded them. He put them back. He stared at Mark’s empty bed. He grabbed Mark’s favorite plushie and held it tight.

“Hyung?” Jackson looked up. BamBam stood in the doorway, looking small and weary, like he was 12 years old again. Jackson put the plushie down and opened his arms. BamBam rushed right into them, throwing his arms around him and nearly knocking Jackson back into the wall. He rose up on his tiptoes as BamBam curled himself over his shoulder.

“How are you?” Jackson asked, holding BamBam so tight he could feel his ribs right through his shirt.

“I’m scared,” BamBam said.

“Yeah?” Jackson said. He pulled away to look BamBam in the eyes, cupped his face. “That’s okay.”

“Is Mark hyung going to be okay?” BamBam asked. God, they were all still children. BamBam looked at him with wide eyes, like Jackson had all the answers, when he really didn’t.

“We just need to be there for him.” He patted BamBam’s shoulder and brought him back into a tight hug. He could feel BamBam’s heart stuttering against him, mirroring his own.

“I don’t know what to wear to a funeral,” BamBam whispered. “Help me, Jackson.”

He followed BamBam to his room and helped him pick out a nice pair of dark slacks and a dark button down shirt. Jackson explained that he didn’t need to be a suit but BamBam was anxious anyway as he packed his clothes away.

“My suit is at my parent’s house,” Junior said, hollowly from the doorway. “My parents are bringing it over.”

“He’s going to be wearing a suit!” BamBam wailed. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Jackson shushed. He turned and gave Junior and look but Junior was just standing there.

“I’ve only worn it to one other funeral,” Junior said, from a place far away.

Jackson left BamBam to finish packing, took Junior’s arm and guided him back to his room. Junior flopped down on his bed when they got there. Jackson followed suit, looking at him curiously.

“Don’t upset them,” Jackson said. That wasn’t like Junior.

“My parents are racing over here,” Junior said, with a funny smile. “To bring me a suit to wear to my best friend’s dad’s funeral… in America.” He shook his head, like that was ironic, and then his breath caught and Jackson could see the tears as he hung his head.

“Jinyoung…” Jackson said.

“I never wanted to wear that suit again,” Junior choked out. “Not for a long time.” He turned to Jackson and wrapped his arms around him. They held each other as Junior cried against his shoulder. Jackson pressed his face against Junior’s hair.

“Oh this is so bad,” Junior whispered. “I heard Mark—“

“He’s sleeping now,” Jackson said, rubbing Junior’s back comfortingly. Now he understood why they did it. For everyone else. Because Mark’s grief was making everyone upset. Selfish, but Jackson couldn’t blame anyone when they were all hurting this bad. He could only be there for them the best he could.  
But his number one priority was Mark.

“I feel like I can’t do it,” Junior continued in a shaky voice. “I can’t face them. What am I going to say?”

“We’ll just… figure it out,” Jackson said. “When you see them, you’ll know.”

“We just saw him!” Junior said, like that had just occurred to him and then he broke into a fresh round of tears. But Jackson wasn’t there. The last time Jackson saw Mr. Tuan was in May, when they were going to the airport. It seemed like so long ago. When they were waving and promising to see each other in the summer and fall and winter and spring, over and over. Always seeing each other. A lifetime together.

And now he would never see him again.  
\--

Somehow, slowly, very slowly, night came. 21:13. The sun set again and they sat in the airport. The official announcement had been made that afternoon. Jackson saw the hashtags on twitter. #nofansnocameras #RIPPapaTuan #MarkWeLoveYou #FightingGOT7 #GOT7FOREVER

It was quiet as they waited to board the plane, like the whole world was leaving them alone. BamBam and Yugyeom were huddled together. Youngjae wouldn’t let go of JB. Junior hovered over all of them. He wouldn’t stop pacing around their chairs.

Jackson sat next to Mark. He didn’t know where Mark was, but he kept a hold of his hand anyway. Whatever pills they gave Mark made him functional as in he could walk in a straight line and sit in a chair. He didn’t do more than that. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He didn’t cry. He didn’t talk. He just stared straight ahead, swallowed by a darkness that no amount of happy, calm pills could ever fix.

But he let Jackson hold his hand and his fingers weren’t slack in Jackson’s grip, they were somewhat curled against the side of his palm. Jackson didn’t know if that was reflex or something real, but he took comfort in that. The Tuans were ready to meet them at the airport in about 17 painful hours and shortly after that was the funeral.

Jackson wasn’t ready.

They marched onto the plane in darkness. Jackson helped Mark into a seat. He buckled his seatbelt. At least wailing, hysterical Mark had life. He could feel Mark’s heart beating underneath him. Now Jackson wasn’t sure. Mark was just a zombie. He wedged himself in the seat next to Mark.

“You should close your eyes and try to sleep,” Jackson whispered in Mark’s ear. Mark was worse than a statue because his skin was papery and thin. Jackson felt like he could push his finger right through to the bone when he tapped his arm.

Then someone was tapping him.

“Excuse me, sir,” the flight attendant said, in perfect English. “You cannot sit here. You need to return to your seat.”

“But Mark—“ Jackson said, but the flight attendant shook her head. The seats were all individual, arranged in a square around each other in some crazy design. Screw business class, Jackson wanted to fly coach and hear babies crying while he couldn’t and feel Mark right there beside him, their thighs pressing together. But instead he was alone. Everyone was alone.

The plane tipped into the air, rushing off the ground beneath them like everyone was in such a hurry. Truthfully, Jackson wasn’t sure if he wanted to get there. As soon as they touched down in California, there was no escaping it. He remembered Mark’s voice. The child-like tone in his question. _Is it real?_ Even though he gave the right answer, he wanted to be lying. He didn’t want this for them, for Mark’s family, for anyone. But especially not Mark. He didn’t want this to be happening. He wished it weren’t real.

When the plane flew, suspended safely at 10,000 feet the light came off and Jackson’s seatbelt unclicked. He hurried back to Mark’s side, sat on the arm of the chair with his best friend. A thin trickle of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with his finger and then wiped his finger on his own pants.

“Mark…” Jackson said. Mark didn’t respond. They had always been the kind of best friends that could read each other with one look. The way they communicated, they didn’t need words, even though Jackson was always happy to use them. But the way Mark was now, he was just so far away that Jackson was at a loss. He had no idea how to reach him and a part of him, a big part of him, was scared that he would never figure it out again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jackson whispered. He could feel JB’s eyes on them, the only one that had a direct line of site. He looked up at his hyung sadly and gave a little sigh, resting his head next to Mark’s and closing his eyes.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep but he must have dozed off. He woke up with someone bumped into his shoulder and he saw the flight attendant with a tray.

“Your friend insisted we bring this for you,” she said, placing a glass of water and a bottle of chilled green tea on the tray in front of Mark. Jackson gave JB a grateful smile. He was still watching. Mark’s eyes were closed now. Maybe he, too, was sleeping.

“Thank you,” Jackson said. He gave the flight attendant a small smile.

“What’s going on?” she asked, softly. “You can’t seem to leave your friend.”

“His dad…” Jackson said, realizing he’d never said the words out loud before. “Just died.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.” The flight attendant reached out and patted his arm, then gave him a little squeeze. “You take care of yourself, hmm? That’s the only way you can take care of him.”

Tears filled Jackson’s eyes, unbidden. He nodded as he looked away and she left.

Jackson swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He couldn’t give in now. They had so much more to get through.

That was a major reason he hadn’t spoken to his mom.

But he had to. Swallowing hard, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He hadn’t put it in airplane mode but there was no service in the middle of the sky. He had 40 missed called, 23 text messages and 5 voicemails.

One of them was from his mom. His hand shaking, he brought the phone up to his ear.

“Kayee, I know you must be really hurting right now and you’re not up to talking. I’m really worried about you, baby boy. I know you’re not okay, but I need to hear your voice when you get a chance, okay? This is so awful and I don’t want you to go through it alone. I’m here for you, baby, even if I’m far away. Let me know that you hear my voice. I will listen to you no matter what. I’m sending you a big hug and Mark too, that poor boy. My heart is just breaking for both of you. I love you, Gaga.”

Jackson took a deep breath and let it out through his mouth, staring ahead. He really had to concentrate. He pretended that his tear ducts were made of steel. Nothing was getting in the way. Nothing. Jackson knew how to focus. That was his career. He set a goal. He focused on it. He executed. He succeeded. Sometimes it was hard in the music business, really hard. But he gave it all he had. It was the same now. Dealing with Mark required that he not have a breakdown. It wasn’t about him. It was never about him.

It was all about Mark.

He sipped some of the cool water, and felt his insides ease just a little. He drank the green tea and his stomach rumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. It didn’t matter anyway.

Mark’s eyes were still closed. His head reclined against the back of his seat, his throat exposed, chest rising and falling slowly. Maybe he really was asleep now. Jackson experimentally reached out and touched a finger against Mark’s sharp collarbone. He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against the side of Mark’s neck, very gently. He could feel his pulse point there. Yes, he was alive.

Jackson pressed his forehead against the side of Mark’s neck, in the crook between his neck and shoulder. Mark didn’t moved. Jackson hoped he was in a better dream now. One that was truly and completely different than the nightmare of reality right now.

Jackson’s mom’s voice echoed in his ears. Yes, he would call her when they touched down. He knew all the parents knew exactly what was going on. JYP had always been good at keeping them informed and he knew everyone else had been in touch.

But there was one person that he couldn’t talk to that Jackson wanted to talk to. Needed too.

Instead, he tried a prayer. He pressed his cheek up against Mark’s and closed his eyes.

 _Dear Mr. Tuan_ , Jackson thought, sending his thoughts up into the universe. _Thank you so much for giving me Mark. I love him more than you can know. I should have told you, but I was afraid. Everyone says life is short but it’s hard to believe. I can’t believe you’re gone. I hope you can hear me. Mark is very hurt right now. I know we both don’t want him to hurt. But I think he has to go through it so he can get to the other side and I’m going to help him every way I can. Not with shortcuts and pills but just love and support and being there for him. I’ll do my very best, Mr. Tuan, and we both know that’s damn good. He will never forget you and neither will I. You have given us both so much and I can never repay you or thank you but your family will always be mine, which means I will protect them. I will protect Mark. I hope one day you see that he’s happy here on earth and that will make you smile. We will both live the best lives that we can with the thought that one day, you will greet us with open arms once again. Love, Jackson._

When he opened his eyes again, Mark was staring at him.

“M-Mark,” Jackson stammered. He pulled back quickly, his own cheek sticky from where it was resting against Mark’s. There was almost a glimmer of life in Mark’s eyes. 

“Mark are you… how are you feeling?”

Mark blinked slowly. He didn’t say anything. Jackson offered him some water, but Mark didn’t take it. He tried the tea, tried asking what he needed but Mark didn’t respond to anything. Finally, Jackson grabbed Mark’s face and rested his own forehead against Mark’s.

“I know you’re in there somewhere, Mark,” Jackson whispered, just between the two of them. “That’s okay, take your time. I’m waiting for you and I’m going to be there for you, no matter what.”

He didn’t care. He needed it. He wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck carefully and pulled him into a gentle hug. Mark’s lanky body swayed against him. The plane continued to speed through the darkness. Jackson caught the time on digital clock overhead, glowing red. 20:05

They were already going back in time. But they could never go far or fast enough.

Jackson held Mark for a long time. After a while, Mark’s hand came up and rested against Jackson’s side. Mark’s fingers half-curled against his shirt. That was it, that was all Jackson needed.

He was going to keep holding on.


End file.
